


All The Way

by kleine_aster



Category: Batman (Comics), Superman (Comics), World's Finest (Comics)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 10:31:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kleine_aster/pseuds/kleine_aster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I had this prompt I really wanted for ages, “Superman and Batman double-team the shit out of Robin!Dick, who’s loving every minute of it”. But then I was too much of a dork to ask anyone for it, so I ended up starting it myself a while ago.^^*</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Way

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** All The Way  
>  **Pairing:** Clark/Bruce/Dick. It’s a World’s Finest sandwich.  
>  **Genre:** PWP.  
>  **Words:**  
>  **Warnings:** Dick’s age isn’t given, though I don’t imagine him as underage. I tried to give this story a bit of a naïve, Bronze Agey feel, which I totally failed at btw, so this is way more purple than my usual stuff, be prepared. The whole thing is probably a liiittle creepy, too, though I tried to make it sweet.  
>  **Notes:** For klose, because I wanted to write her something nice. :) Her OTP is Bruce/Dick, but I know she likes Clark, so I hope it’s all right!  
>  In light of recent events, the last line is probably a little twisted … but it was mostly true for Dick!Robin, so I kept it.

„He’s been looking forward to this all week, you know.” 

Batman’s voice is an intimate growl. He’s wearing one of his rare smiles while he presents the boy to him like a sweet, willing sacrifice. The Teen Wonder shoots his crimefighting partner a covert, bashful look from half-lidded eyes – _Don’t tell him that!_ –, which is answered by a chuckle. Batman’s smile briefly widens at the corners, but then it disappears, and he grows quiet and serious again.

Robin is blushing, but Superman can tell that he’s not quite as coy as he appears to be; there’s something deliberate, something willful in the way he’s softly gyrating his slender hips on his mentor’s lap, and it’s already yielding results too. He’s a fiery kid, without a doubt. Inexperienced still, but there’s fire in him, burning bright in the dimly lit bedroom. 

The scene unfolding on the king-sized bed within the Fortress is almost ceremonial. There’s the Bat, bare-chested but still in his tights and boots, and of course, wearing his cowl. The man from Krypton kneels opposite him, not a shred of clothing on his person. He knows how intimidating he can appear to his few, selected sex partners, so he prefers to present himself as he is; as open and vulnerable as he ever gets. He can see Robin’s curious eyes ghost over his body, drinking in the sight of him. They eventually rest on the large, hard member between his legs, and Superman sees his adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard.

Robin is nestled between them, still in costume. Superman has seldom had this much color in his bed, and the sight of it is very charming. Batman is holding his teenage partner like a handler, but there’s a tenderness to it that betrays that notion almost immediately. Robin looks a little anxious – and who wouldn’t, with a tall, grim vigilante breathing down his neck and an ever taller, unclothed alien eyeing him from the front – but not afraid.

Superman can hear his heart flutter when he addresses him. “This is your first time,” he asserts softly.

Robin’s eyes dart back up to meet his. He seems incapable of speaking (he hasn’t made a single pun yet, even though the opportunities seem plentiful). But he nods, wide-eyed, his pretty face flushed from the neck up right to his ears.

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” Superman assures him while he begins to gently tug on his tight red vest. “I’ll be very gentle with you,” he promises, to which the youth lets out a tiny noise, almost like a nervous, semi-excited squeak.

“Remember, nothing you don’t want, chum,” Batman tells him. His tone is reassuring, but his voice is unsteady. “I’m here,” he adds, as if to remind both of them that he is.

Robin still seems too shy to speak, but he sighs deeply when Superman runs two big, gentle hands over his exposed chest. His sun-kissed skin is incredible, warm, soft, still barely scarred from the hardships of the life that has chosen him. He’s hardly breathing. His eyes, blue and bright behind the domino, are following Superman’s every move. After a while, he starts to lean into the taller man’s touch, making no attempt to hide the bulge that’s very visibly growing in his short green trunks. 

For a second, both of them nearly forget about Batman, but then Superman hears another sigh, deeper this time. When he looks up, he can see that young Robin isn’t the only one completely captivated by what is happening.

Superman takes a brief moment to observe him. He’d been surprised when Batman had told him that the boy wanted him, and that he wanted him to be his first, even though he couldn’t exactly claim he’d hesitated to grant him his wish. He’d been a little more surprised when the Dark Knight had suggested that he be there, too, to look out for the boy. But then, Batman had seen entire walls crumble to dust under Superman’s fingers, and it was clear that he cared deeply about his ward’s well-being, so it hadn’t seemed that unreasonable.

Superman definitely doesn’t mind him being here; and neither, obviously, does Robin.

But now, he sees the Dark Knight shudder as he squeezes the boy tightly, sees him nuzzle his cowled face against Robin’s neck, and he realizes that it’s more than that, that he’s in love with the young man. It also seems apparent that he’s never spoken to him about it. It seems odd, but the Caped Crusader is a complex man.

Superman looks at the peculiar duo in his bed. He’s in love with both of them, he adores both of them, and he’d take both of them, too, if they’d allow it. Love has always made him feel generous rather than possessive; he doesn’t believe in people owning each other, and he feels that love should be shared. He wonders how Batman thinks about this, but then, he brought the boy to him when he asked him to.

He turns his attention back to Robin, and sees the teenager outright swoon under his gaze. He can feel his own voice scratch in his throat when he says, “I want to kiss you. May I?”

He’s usually so assertive in all matters, but when it comes to this … since he could overpower any human companion he has with great ease, even without meaning to, he always finds it better to check.

Robin seems floored by his request for a moment. But then, his face lights up, and his perky, rascally grin returns for the first time since they’ve taken him to bed. He leaps forward, throws his arms around Superman’s broad shoulders, and presses his lips on him. Superman can feel Robin’s legs slide around his waist as the boy shimmies out of Batman’s lap (who lets him go), and into his. He has strong arms, strong legs. His lips are warm and eager, and Superman lets out a soft groan when a daring tongue enters his mouth. The boy is a practiced kisser, that much is clear (Batman has grumpily told him that he’s popular with the boys and girls he encounters), but there is a rawness and innocence to it that makes the fired-up nerves in his loins contract and his extraterrestrial heart beat faster. Robin flinches against him and gasps into his mouth when Superman runs his hands over his speedo-clad backside, causing his clothed erection to rub against his naked body.

The boy finds his voice again when they part. “Your l-lips,” he observes woozily. “They feel … they feel hard.”

Superman takes a hand off his back to stroke his smooth cheek with a faint, rueful smile. “I know. Is it bad?”

“No.” The youth giggles, curiously brushing his thumb over Superman’s lips. “It’s … different.” He leans over to nip at them again.

They play with each other’s mouths until Superman sneaks another look at Batman. The Dark Knight is putting on a show of composure, but his teeth are clenched as if someone was repeatedly kicking him in the groin.

Robin stops lapping at his mouth when he props a hand under his chin to make him look up. “Have you and Batman ever kissed?” Superman asks. He has been wondering for a while.

The boy doesn’t reply, but the blush on his face grows an ever deeper shade of red, and Superman knows with certainty that they haven’t, and also that the teen has at least thought about it.

They truly are peculiar, this pair.

Superman turns to the other half of the dynamic duo. “Batman,” he invites him, playfully running his fingers through Robin’s thick, black curls, “I have a feeling that he would really like that kiss, don’t you?”

The other man’s features harden. He looks guarded and tense, and Superman is once again fascinated by how hard his friend chooses to fight things he obviously wants.

“I – “ His gruff voice sounds defensive. “I don’t think – ”

“You can kiss me!”

They both turn towards Robin, who closes his mouth, startled by his own enthusiasm. The only one even more startled by it is Batman. Superman bites back a smile while he watches them exchange a wary, intrigued look. 

“I mean, i-if you like,” Robin stammers. He starts chewing on his full, pouty lower lip while he seems to melt away under Batman’s quizzical stare. “I mean, you don’t … you don’t have to, of course – ”

“I promised you,” says the Bat, almost solemnly, “It’ll be anything you want.”

After another moment of almost pained-looking consideration, he slowly approaches the couple on the bed. Superman gives him room, so that he can put his hands around his young partner’s face. He does it so delicately as if he’s concerned that Robin might break under his touch. He edges in slowly, almost cautiously, while the youth looks on with deep fascination. And then, Superman sees Robin smile, shortly before his lips are claimed by Batman’s hard, serious mouth.

And they kiss. They kiss inches from Superman’s face, and it’s mesmerizing. Robin looks thrilled and confused; Batman looks agonized, but in a skewed, interesting way that Superman hasn’t seen before. At one point, Robin softly, dreamily intones “Batmmmh,” and it drives his partner so wild that he lets out a desperate, guttural groan and nearly tears him off Superman’s lap when he locks him into a tight embrace. It’s a terrific display, and the Man Of Steel is briefly shaken by a visceral desire to grab both their heads and make them kiss even harder, as if they were his dolls, but he resists that childish urge. 

It’s not as if they need the help, anyway. Their kiss is deep and sensual, and seems to never end (which Superman has no qualms with, at all), until it does – 

Until he feels Robin rock against him, suddenly and forcefully. The boy is shivering. His hands tighten around Batman’s arms, a long, muffled moan comes from his wet, busy lips, and Superman realizes that it’d been more than he could handle, that he’s in the throes of orgasm because his mentor is kissing him.

It’s sweet, or at least Superman thinks so, but something about it causes Batman to retreat. It falls to the Kryptonian to hold on to the lad as he twitches on top of him, nearly doubling over while he tries to collect his breath.

“I-I’m sorry,” he gasps, and the look of honest shame on his face is all kinds of heart-wrenching. “This doesn’t … I don’t usually …” He trails off with an almost comical look of mortification on his face. “I ruined it,” he mutters, crestfallen, and Superman tries his darnedest not to laugh.

Batman seems too stunned – or moved – by what has just transpired, so Superman takes the lead again, giving the dismayed youth a comforting pat on the back. “It’s fine, pal. It happens to the best of us.” In fact, he’s fairly sure it nearly happened to Batman, just now. But he’s too polite to say it. “Besides,” he plants a small, friendly kiss on Robin’s shoulder, to assure him that this definitely didn’t make him less desire- or likeable, “You’re young; I’m sure you can go again.”

The kid responds with a soft shiver and a weak, embarrassed, but genuine smile. Superman lets him slide back into the sheets, so he can recover, and leans over to the other man on the bed with much purpose. Batman has gone back to looking cold and forbidding, presumably because he isn’t sure what to do with himself. But there’s scarcely a moment where he doesn’t look like this, and Superman is not discouraged by it. As expected, Batman makes no attempt to fight him off as he gently nestles his face against his.

“Allow me, Batman,” he quips, shooting him a quick, warm smile, “I have to know if your kiss is really that powerful.”

His grim friend huffs indignantly, but then, he grabs the strongest man in the world by the neck, and unceremoniously pulls him into a furious kiss. He’s much more aggressive with him than he’d been with Robin, which makes sense (presumably, all that pent-up sexual energy has to go somewhere), but Superman has always liked his fierce nature, so he doesn’t mind it. He kisses him back with enthusiasm, caresses his scarred back, teases his stiff, responsive nipples, kneads his thighs with his strong hands until he has him moaning again.

“I’m glad you’re here, old friend,” Superman strokes his cheek. “And I would gladly have you, too, if it’s something you want. I have always liked you.” He casts a quick glance at the boy on the bed, and gives his friend a knowing smirk. “I believe I have never made it a secret.”

Batman gives him a grunted “Hrm,” but his grip on him is firm, and his arousal is very obviously straining against the fabric of his sleek black trunks. Superman leans in to kiss him once more. Batman’s lips seem especially intoxicating, because they have always been taboo until now. But the Bat seems distracted; he’s looking right past him. 

Superman turns his head. Robin is sitting up straight, with his sweet mouth hanging open and his hands in his lap, and watches the proceedings with an awestruck expression on his face. He looks as if he is witnessing the greatest thing he’s ever seen, and Superman knows exactly how he feels.

“No, no, don’t stop!” The youth pleads when he finds the two older men turning their attention to him. He smiles, nervously, his eyes darting back and forth between them, and Superman sees him finger and squeeze himself through his tight-fitting pants; he’s made a full recovery. “N-not because of me, at least…” 

Superman grins. “We’d be happy to include you,” he says, forehead still dipped against Batman’s.

“This is your night, chum,” Batman agrees throatily, and Superman can practically hear the blood boil in his veins, “What do you want us to do?”

Young Robin seems overwhelmed with the possibilities for a moment, but then he thinks of something, and his lips part into another smile. He seems much more brazen than he was at the beginning, when he tilts his head to the side and asks, very sweetly, “Um, Batman? Care to help me get out of these duds, please?”

That “please” is wholly unneeded. Superman leans back and watches as his friend gets on the task. Batman doesn’t say a word – he seems choked, almost – but he briefly, tenderly touches Robin’s face before he begins to disrobe him. Like with the kiss, they both seem tentative, slow, and very focused. Batman helps him out of the cape and his open vest. The boy’s arousal looks adorably perky as it pops out of his trunks when Batman pulls them down over his hips. Superman looks on as the mentor dibs two soft, gentle kisses on the protegé’s ankles while he removes his boots. Robin doesn’t look too pleased about it, but Superman quickly realizes that it’s because he’s focusing very hard on not having another orgasm on the spot.

“Now you,” the youth prompts him breathlessly, once the second boot hits the floor. “Please. I’s gonna be weird if we’re naked and you're not, won’t it?”

Batman hesitates for a second. Superman can’t imagine that he usually takes orders in bed, but he seems very devoted to make this Robin’s night, so he complies. He lets his partner assist him in removing his belt and boots. Robin sneaks a curious peek down his briefs, but he doesn’t seem brash enough yet to touch him there. Which, again, seems peculiar, since Superman is fairly sure they have seen each other naked before; though probably not quite like this. He is absolutely captivated; every single interaction between them seems so idiosyncratic and interesting.

Batman stubbornly leaves his cowl on. It should look sillier than it does, but his firm, naked body and his sizeable arousal are far too majestic. Superman and Robin both sigh in unison. It flusters the Bat, but he has a hard time hiding how flattered he is, too.

“What next,” he growls at his partner.

Superman fully expects Robin to start fooling around with Batman again, and he would be fine with it. But the boy gets on all fours, and comes crawling to him instead, lean and nimble as a cat. 

He nudges his legs apart. “I’ve dreamed about doing this,” he admits sheepishly, before he dips down between Superman’s thighs and kisses the tip of his cock. Then, he swirls his tongue around the glans, coaxing a moan from his lips, sending a deep shiver of pleasure through his massive body. Emboldened by this response, the boy takes him into his mouth, making all kinds of charming noises while he tries to fit in as much of him as he can. He takes a moment to settle in, and then he begins sucking on him, so hard that his cheeks are hollowing out. It’s clear that he has never done it before, but it’s just as clear that he has a knack for it. Superman draws deep breaths and holds back for a fashion, before he starts giving him a few slow, measured thrusts of his hips. The boy “mmm”s in agreement, and starts bobbing his head in accordance.

It takes Superman a while to realize that their current position is prompting the kid to stick out his rear, and when he looks up, he catches Batman staring at the perfect hump of his ass; Superman has a fairly good idea of how phenomenal the view must be.

“Join us,” he growls in the Bat’s direction; he has never seen his headstrong friend in need of so much prompting. And Robin emerges from his crotch, red-faced, to enthuse, “Yeah.” His obvious excitement is taking a toll on his usual verbosity, but it does the trick. His partner comes over, his large member stiff and heavy between his legs. He gazes down at the boy, and it’s clear that he doesn’t know where to touch him first. It’s also clear that he’s thrilled to be allowed to touch him at all, and deeply ashamed of liking it so much. 

He seems careful not to let his hard-on brush against the boy’s legs when he finally puts his hands on him, then his lips, kissing a wet trail down his smooth, beautiful back. His Teen Wonder shudders and buries his hot mouth in Superman’s lap again. A moment later, he shoots up with a yelp when his mentor inserts his tongue between his sweet, firm cheeks with unparalleled fervor and without so much as a warning.

“No– Stop– Don’t – !” He pants, giving Superman’s manhood a hard (but quite pleasurable) involuntary yank.

Batman stops what he’s doing right away, and his face comes into view again. “I’m sorry,” he states, devastated, “I thought you would like it if – ”

“I d-do. But I don’t wanna lose it again.” Robin shoots him back an equally tormented look and winces. “When you do that, it feels …”

“Sorry,” Batman mumbles once more, and for the first time since he’s known him, Superman sees him turn red.

“It doesn’t matter, Robin,” Superman patiently reminds him. “It wouldn’t be the end of the world, or even of this encounter, if it happened.”

“I know. But – ” 

Robin sounds almost fevered, and Superman realizes how hopelessly overstimulated he must be. He can feel the kid’s taut muscles tremble when he digs his hands into his big shoulders, and pulls himself into his lap again. He’s burning against him, searing hot and drenched in sweat. But the look on his face is very serious, so serious it almost turns around into funny again.

“I was wondering.” Robin takes Superman’s hands in his and gazes at him as if they were two teenagers on a date, it’s almost horrendously cute. “I was wondering if you’d go all the way with me,” he says, and both his earnestness and his choice of words remind Superman how young he really is.

“Oh.”

The boy bats his eyes at him. “Superman. Please. Do you …? Can we…?”

His cheeks are glowing with excitement, and Superman knows that he needn’t ask him if he’s sure.

It’s not a question of wanting. It really isn’t. The boy is sweet, beautiful, kind and generous, he deserves all the love in the world, and Superman would like nothing more. But he knows how strong he is, he knows how big he is, he knows how forceful he can be. And he knows that, the more enticing his partner is, the more difficult it becomes to control…

“What are you looking at me for,” Batman grumbles, sounding less than thrilled. “He can do what he wants. He doesn’t need my permission. And neither do you, my friend.”

Superman looks back and forth between them. On the other hand, there’s this; there’s two grown men in this bed who care for the boy, who would do anything to protect him. Between the two of them, they’ll manage not to let any harm come to him. Maybe he needn’t be so worried.

“Tell you what,” Superman says to Robin, giving him a little squeeze, “We'll try. And when you decide that you don’t like it, we’ll stop. Sound good?”

“Sounds … sounds swell.” Robin swallows deeply again, but he’s beaming with enthusiasm. “I’m sure I’ll like it, though,” he adds, and Superman can hear Batman sigh in the background.

“What do you, um, what do I have to do?” Robin asks next.

Superman gets him to lie down and stretch out his lean, luxurious legs. The boy twitches when he gives his arousal a friendly pat, then puts his hand around it. “Well, first, I think it’d be best if we make you climax again,” Superman tells him.

“But – !” He starts protesting, then falls silent with a shudder when Superman moves his hand even a little. “You’re on the edge, son,” he says patiently, as if it needs pointing out, “Trust me, you wouldn’t be able to relax if we tried it now, and it might hurt more than it has to.”

“And no-one here wants that,” Batman mutters. He doesn’t seem in love with the whole idea, but still determined not to stand in the way of the boy’s happiness. "He's right, Robin." 

The teen is chewing on his lip again, clearly worried. “What if I can’t … manage a third time?”

"Then we'll occupy ourselves otherwise, and let you rest until you feel up to it again," Superman says, shrugging to indicate that it's no trouble. He grins. "But, based on your performance up to this point, I say you needn't be concerned."

Robin's chest swells at that. "Gee, thanks!"

"Enough talk," Batman interjects a little harshly, but his movements are gentle when he moves in to give the boy's arousal a quick flick of his tongue. Robin opens his legs a little wider, visibly thrilled that his mentor is getting involved again.

"Superman, assist me," the Dark Knight growls. They kiss again over the boy's throbbing manhood, almost sweetly this time, and then they both bend down to put their mouths to work. Their team-up is effective as always, they tease his cock and his balls, making him twist and babble and moan while he strokes and pats both their heads with shivering fingers. It doesn't take minutes until he starts heaving, and spills his seed across their faces with a small cry. Batman looks almost obscenely satisfied when it happens.

"Would you like to take a break?" Superman asks, once the kid settles down a bit. The boy shakes his head, eyes still glazed over from his orgasm. "…no…" He sighs, and lifts his head to gaze admiringly at the two older men and their still-hard cocks. "You guys haven't even finished once," he points out, sounding impressed and a little envious. "You're both so …" He searches for the right word, and then he giggles. "… steadfast. I hope one day I'll be as tough as you!"

"You will be. It's all a matter of experience," Superman assures him. "And there's a couple of breathing- and relaxation techniques that I'm sure Batman will be happy teach you." He's also fairly sure that Batman is applying a bunch of them to himself right now, if his strained, heavy breathing is anything to go by. The Dark Knight seems to shoot him a dirty look from behind his cowl for the teasing, but Superman smiles at him, anyway. Then he bows down and plants a small kiss on the boy's sweaty forehead. "Are you ready?" He asks him, and Robin is back to blushing and nodding in silence.

Superman is tempted to ask Batman to prepare him with his mouth, but that seems like pushing it, in more ways than one. He reaches for the lubricant he keeps ready in his nightstand, instead, and gently prompts the youth to turn around on his stomach. The sight of him is breathtaking. Even when clothed, it's easy to tell that he has a fantastic body; but seeing him display himself like this is just incredible.

He massages and caresses the boy's warm, slick, lean thighs until he starts pressing against him by his own account, before he carefully puts a finger in him. Robin grows as stiff as a board for a moment, but then he starts to slowly melt into it.

It isn't until the third finger that he starts to whimper. "This feels f-funny," he whines.

"You're hurting him." Batman's voice is sharp, and Superman knows he's watching the proceedings like a hawk.

"N-no…" The boy gasps, softly rocking back and forth on Superman's fingers, but it's Batman's hand he grabs for comfort. "It's not th-that. D-don't stop…"

Superman keeps teasing and probing and stretching him, and his heart does a happy little leap when he realizes how well the lad responds to it. He's trembling and whimpering, but he's doesn't seem to have much trouble taking it, at all. He is taking it like a natural, his body equal parts firm and wonderfully flexible. His over-worked member is semi-erect again when Superman withdraws his fingers.

"I have a few smaller toys, if you want to try those first," he offers, anyway.

"Uh-uh," Robin pants, head buried in his sheets, "You. I want y-you."

"All right," he breathes. His own cock is wet at the tip already, aching between his legs, and he can't exactly claim he doesn't welcome this. Without any prompting this time, Batman wraps Robin in his arms while Superman takes him by the hips and starts cautiously inserting himself. He grunts, struggling to contain his own excitement; it's not as if such a thing happens to him every night. Robin almost sounds like he's sobbing on Batman's shoulder now, but it doesn't seem to be from pain, and his erection seems to be growing harder with every inch he's receiving. And all through it, Batman's there, cradling him in his arms, whispering little encouragements and showering him with kisses.

In the end, he's able to take him in full, which seems extraordinary; but then, he's never been an ordinary boy.

Batman humbly lets go of him in order to leave them to it, but Robin holds on to him before he can move away; holds on to his towering member, to be precise. He seems too beside himself to remember how shy he was about touching his mentor there. He's tugging on him, and it becomes obvious that he's trying to take him, too, trying to take him in his mouth.

The Bat lets out a shivery moan of epic proportions before he gasps, "Robin, no," in a hushed, concerned voice.

"Please." The teen is out of breath, his face is twisted with lust and strain, but he still has a clear idea of what he wants to go where, it seems. "I want you to … I want you, too."

And Batman finally gives up. He winces, once, but then he remains still, and allows the boy to put his hungry mouth on him. The sight of his penis disappearing into his young crimefighting partner seems to cause something to snap inside the Bat's brain. His hips and his big, strong thighs start shaking, and then he thrusts into his mouth, causing Robin to gargle out a startled "Mmmph!", and causing his ass to slam into Superman's hips in a delicious chain reaction. The extraterrestrial convulses and groans; this is, without a doubt, one of the greatest things that have ever happened to him. Robin is a genius.

Through a haze of lust and desire, Batman still looks troubled. "D-don't hurt him," he hisses from between his teeth, as if to remind Superman as well as himself.

"He's fine." Superman gives Batman a comforting smile, and the boy an appreciative pat on the back. "Aren't you, Robin?"

The kid can't reply on account of his mouth being full, but he makes an affirmative noise in his throat. Then, he gags again when Superman leans over to kiss Batman's lips, but he really doesn't sound too unhappy down there.

"Batman, I'm very honored to do this with you," Superman says, still beaming.

“Oh, shut up,” the Dark Knight growls, and then they make the boy yelp again when they start working him from both ends.

They’re surprisingly fast in finding a smooth, steady rhythm that benefits all three of them. Robin’s means of expression are limited, of course, but Superman can tell from the way he’s moving his hips that he’s enjoying it, and both the firmness of his body and his wordless, palpable enthusiasm drive him to near insanity. Superman still holds back with his thrusts, adhering to the boy’s movements and letting him choose the strength and depth with which he likes to be penetrated. It’s so, so tough not to break down and take him at full force. The exercise is driving rare sweat from his pores, and very nearly drives tears to his eyes. He can hear himself panting hard, stroking the teen’s rutting hips with slick, sweaty fingers, mumbling sweet, passionate agreement at him. 

Despite his heightened state of arousal, he still has to bite back a laugh when he looks over at Batman. The Dark Knight is staring down at his partner pleasuring him with an almost rapturous expression on his cowled face, and Superman can practically see the words “I love you” tremble on his lips. But they won’t come out, at least not yet, not now. It’s touching, a little funny, and very, very hot.

Robin takes pleasing Batman so seriously that he doesn’t even stop fellating him when he’s obviously climaxing for a third time. He utters a drawn-out, hoarse wail with the cock still in his mouth, and then his whole body seems to clamp down, almost driving Superman over the edge in the process, and it’s apparently all that Batman has needed to see. He hunches over with a deep shudder, and then Superman hears him whisper a name that’s definitely not “Robin” while he spills into the boy’s mouth.

Superman is the only one who’s still hard as the kid hopelessly collapses in a heap of twitching limbs, wholly spent. He’s having far too much fun to be sore about it, he wouldn’t even mind taking care of it himself. But before he realizes what’s happening, a firm hand wraps itself around his manhood, already slick with lubricant, and a dark voice intones, “Come here.”

“What – ” he mutters, but in the next moment, he cringes and almost screams when Batman first climbs on top, then impales himself on him. Even for someone with experience, it has to hurt, but his friend doesn’t seem to want it another way.

“Your turn,” he growls, as blunt as ever, grabbing his shoulders to steady himself. But then he leans down, and whispers into his ear: “No need to hold back.”

Superman blinks up at him with gratitude. He really, truly wants to kiss him now, so he reaches up, and does.

He’s still careful, but his first, forceful thrust is met with an approving grunt. And then, Batman grabs him so tight and rides him so hard, he barely has to do anything. There’s something furious, almost punitive in the way the other man slams himself down on his massive member, but his body is much sturdier than Robin’s, and he seems to know his own limits well, so Superman lets him. All he does is wrap him in his arms, and hold him throughout, and he can feel how desperately his friend needs that now, how much he needs to be held, how much he needs another warm, living body pressed against him, a body that he isn’t afraid of breaking. This pure, raw neediness is almost as exciting to Superman as the tight, wet heat stretching around his arousal, and it doesn’t take Batman long to ride him to a glorious, glorious climax. The Dark Knight digs his fingers into his hard, taut flesh, and he coos, contently, approvingly, as his alien friend thrashes and moans in a powerful orgasm. He only dismounts him once he’s completely still again.

When Superman comes down from his high, he notices sweet, exhausted Robin dragging himself over to them. He plops down lifelessly on the spot, and Superman realizes that watching their spectacle had been the only thing keeping him from passing out.

A while later, they’re all huddled in bed together. Superman doesn’t sleep, of course, but he’s not the only one. Across him lies Batman, wide awake. He can’t see his eyes, but he knows that he’s watching Robin, who is curled up against Superman’s chest, looking happy even in in his sleep. He seems lost in thought.

Superman nudges him. “Why the long face,” he teases him in a hushed voice. “You know that, when this is done, he’ll go home with you.”

Batman frowns. He waits, making sure that the boy is actually asleep, before he tentatively replies, “I know. It’s not that. But I feel that he … he deserves …”

Superman props himself up on one arm. This man, he’ll never cease to confound and amaze him. “Batman,” he says, “You are one of the smartest people I have ever met. And yet, you can be such a fool sometimes.”

His serious friend winces and opens his mouth, presumably to explain to him how difficult things are, but that’s when Robin softly begins to stir between them. It’s not clear if he’s heard them talk or not, but he turns around, and snuggles up to Batman instead, who puts his arms around him immediately, looking embarrassed, but happy, too.

“Mmm,” the boy mumbles, before he falls asleep again, “Y’know, ’s true what they say. Robin really is the luckiest kid in the world!”


End file.
